The Mistake
by ClockworkScales
Summary: The Nameless One remembers an old memory. One that involves his old lover, Morte, and death. One-shot.


'My name is Ravel.'

'What is my name?'

'I knew your old name once, but it's long gone.'

'Can't you at least tell me why I'm here? Why my memory is gone?'

Ravel, at this point in time, is a young woman with long black hair. Her hair is tied back into two ponytails and she wears a simple grey dress. She is sitting at a desk, her talons sharpening a bloody blade.

'You are an immortal. You exist to do good,' Ravel states simply, eyeing the blade with a frown. She turns to face you. 'If you make love to me, that could be your first good deed.'

You grimace.

'I love nobody. So I will make love to no-one.' You stand and look down at yourself. You are wearing some simple clothes, but they are covered in blood. Your hand reaches to your neck, and you can feel a long scar running across it. 'I thank you for your time, Ravel. But I must be on my way.'

Ravel's eyes narrow. You sense dark magic in her, but don't know _how_ you know. You realize that if you try to escape, she would keep you here. Something inside you tells you that this Ravel woman is in love with you and she won't let you leave unless you promise to return.

Ravel gets to her feet and wraps her arms around your neck.

'Make love to me, dear, and promise you'll come back to me someday. You owe me that much for what I did for you.' Her hot breath against your ear makes your insides quiver. She leans back and peers into your eyes. You get the impression you're looking into the Lower Realms – no – not even that, Hell itself. 'If you love me, I will give you the information you want.'

Perhaps this Ravel was not so unreasonable after all, you think, considering her offer. Something, however, tells you that your body won't quite work the way it used to.

'Ravel, I am a dead man.'

'That is okay with me,' Ravel says, and her talons glow with purple light. 'I can make it work, my love.'

She reaches below your waist, and you lose yourself in the sensation.

* * *

Ravel teleports you to Sigil once she has explained what she knew of the old you. The first thing you do is decide to find somewhere to rest. You take off your shirt and discard it in an alleyway – nobody would let a man rest at their inn with a bloody shirt. You remember what Ravel told you, but no memories come to mind immediately. She could have been lying to you, for all you know.

'You committed a crime, my love, and sought my help. You felt that if you were to become immortal, you would be able to repay your debt. Your name... I must confess I never knew your real name. You were very secretive when you came to see me.' You sense that Ravel was lying about this last part, but why would she lie? Maybe she forgot, somehow. 'The spell that made you immortal ended badly, and you will lose your memories unless you find someway to make your memories permanent.'

You consider a journal, but decide against it. You think about your old life, wondering how you got to where you were today. You get the impression that you had betrayed somebody. A lover, perhaps, though accidentally. Suddenly, a memory bubbles to the surface of your mind. You let it express itself.

* * *

A woman with short brown hair is reaching to caress your face. Suddenly, you speak to her.

'I have to go away for awhile.'

Her hand quivers in the air, and her face falls.

'There's a man, Morte. He told me he would take care of you while I was gone. I have to leave tonight, but he'll be here in an hour.'

'Who is this Morte person, and how do I know I can trust them?' The woman retorts, her beautiful face suddenly rippling with anger. 'It's always the same with you - you're so secretive. I get the feeling you're up to something dangerous. Why won't you tell me?'

'I can't let you get involved. You'd get killed.'

The woman frowns and then gives you a tight embrace. 'Come home safely, then.'

* * *

You hear the clanging of a hammer hitting stone nearby, and it distracts you. Your eyes open and you peer at a dabus, before walking away and leaning against a building. You scrunch your eyes up and try to remember more, ignoring the harlot who screams at you from across the walkway.

* * *

Suddenly, you picture yourself in a room in your old home. You are standing before a noose. Your lover is hanging from it. You turn to Morte, who is standing in the doorway, his mouth ajar.

'You said you would watch her for me!' You growl. You turn to Morte and wrangle his neck. 'What the hell is wrong with you! Why didn't you stop her?'

Morte's black hair flops across his face and he grins. 'Hey, chief, don't hold me responsible. It was her choice to kill herself.'

'But what did you say to make her kill herself?'

'I didn't say anything!' Morte urges, and he tries to wriggle free. 'Let me down, will ya! I'll explain.'

Begrudgingly, you let him down. You glance at the mangled corpse of your lover, her neck red and puffed, her tongue swollen and part way out of her mouth. You look away, feeling bile rise at the back of your throat as you smell the death in the room.

Morte scratches his head and looks innocently at you. 'Gee, chief, I gotta say – I didn't think she would do it. She kept threatening to kill herself if I didn't tell her what you were doing out. She kept saying how depressed she was, how miserable she was that you wouldn't tell her the truth. She said, "I'm with child. How can we survive if I can't trust he'll be around all the time? _Tell me, Morte, or I'll rip this child from my womb_! I'll kill myself AND the child!" And, I'm sorry, but I … ' Morte looks guilty for a moment. 'I told her the truth, I thought it would calm her down. But... it didn't, obviously. It was bad, chief - really bad. I'm sorry.'

* * *

You shake your head, Sigil coming back into view. Morte, that bastard Morte. You feel a sense of loss fill your insides as you realize that it wasn't just his fault. You had left her in the first place. _You betrayed her by leaving her alone with Morte. You should have known better._ You spit on the ground. Suddenly, you feel somebody smack your back.

'Hey berk, gimme some jink and I won't hurt ya, eh?'

You spin around and stare at the bandit. He's missing a few teeth by the looks of it, and is holding a knife towards you. It looks a lot like Ravel's knife, but you know it isn't. You remember what Ravel said. _You are an Immortal. You exist to do good. _What was good in this situation? Give the thief the money, or fight him until he died? Which was more immoral?

Suddenly, dread fills your insides. As you contemplate this dilemma, the bandit stabs you in the chest. You feel a sharp pain and your vision goes white.

'Berk, listen to me when I'm talkin' to ya!'

Your hand clutches your chest, tries to stop the blood from pouring out, but it's too late. You fall to the ground, dead.

* * *

When you wake up, you're alone in the Mortuary on a metal slab. You notice your pants have gone missing. You get to your feet, trying to think how one might go about leading a good life to repay your debt.

_Could it considered a good deed to avoid your fate by extending your immortality, for the sake of doing good things? It was an act of cowardice, after all..._

You walk up to the nearest zombie and break its neck, snatching a key from its gowns as it falls.


End file.
